


Flu Season

by fragments_and_pieces



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Platonic Cuddling, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-06-25
Packaged: 2018-06-05 14:30:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6708469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fragments_and_pieces/pseuds/fragments_and_pieces
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Edd goes away for a week, Matt gets the flu, and Tom and Tord are incompetent and don't know how to take care of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sickfics are trash. _I'm_ trash. I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself. I think the title's gonna change soon, I just wanted to get this thing up.

“Edd,” Matt whines, poking his head into the man’s room, “my- wait, where are you going?” he asks, distracted by the open suitcase on the bed.

Edd gives him a look. “I’m going to visit my parents, remember?” he replies, scratching his head and looking around the room.

“What?” Matt exclaims. “But I don’t feel good, Edd, you can’t go!”

“What’s wrong?” Edd prompts. He walks over to his closet and hunts around for something.

“My stomach feels weird.” Matt frowns. He moves to sit on the edge of the bed, and Edd feels his forehead once he finds what he’d been looking for.

“You don’t feel very warm. Just get some rest, you’ll be fine,” he advises, voice straining as he struggles to shove another hoodie into his suitcase.

“But Edd,” Matt complains, drawing out his name and draping himself dramatically over the bed, “what if I’m dying? You’d just leave your best friend to _die?”_ Edd was always around when any one of them got sick. Tom and Tord hated his constant mother-henning, but it was no secret that Matt loved attention. Being taken care of always made him feel better.

Edd chuckles. “You’re not dying, Matt. It’s probably nothing,” he says. Matt watches as he zips up the suitcase, pouting. Edd pokes his cheek. “Oh, lighten up. You’ll probably feel fine tomorrow. And if it gets worse, Tom and Tord’ll still be here, yeah?”

Matt sighs, crossing his arms and sitting up. “Yeah, I guess…” Edd smiles and lugs the suitcase up. Matt trails after him, into the living room, where Tom and Tord are slouched on the couch, mindlessly watching the television. Tord looks up as they enter.

“We should probably leave soon if we don’t want to hit traffic,” he tells Edd. “Are you done packing?”

“Yeah. We can go now, if you want.”

“Okay.” Tord stands and grabs his keys from the ceramic bowl they have near the door. After quick goodbyes, he and Edd leave for the airport.

Matt takes Tord’s spot on the couch and stretches out so his legs are in Tom’s lap, sighing. Tom doesn’t push him away. “What’s wrong? Miss Edd already?” he teases.

“No, I just don’t feel well,” he answers. Tom hums in response, patting Matt’s leg sympathetically, and the two fall silent as the TV drones on.

Matt must’ve fallen asleep because all of a sudden it’s a lot darker in the room. Tom is gone, and the TV’s been turned down to a significantly lower volume. Matt feels confused and sluggish -- not to mention worse than before.

Tord’s in the entryway, looking sheepish as he slips his shoes off. “Sorry, I didn't know you were asleep.”

“It’s fine,” Matt says, and Tord sends him a small, apologetic smile before leaving the room. The sudden smell of food hits Matt, making his stomach flip uncomfortably. Tom must’ve cooked dinner. Matt groans and manages to push himself from the couch.

He stumbles into the kitchen. Tom is still cooking and Tord is peering impatiently over his shoulder. The sight of food makes Matt’s stomach do somersaults. “Hey, Matt. Dinner’s almost ready,” Tom says, but it seems to be directed more towards Tord, if the glare Tom gives said man is anything to go by. Matt shakes his head.

“That’s alright. I think I’m just gonna go to bed.”

“Oh, okay,” Tom replies, and Tord quickly demands his attention, eager for dinner. Their arguing fades as Matt gets farther down the hallway. He closes his bedroom door behind him and has barely enough sense to pull on some sweatpants before collapsing onto his bed. He groans again and curls in on himself as his stomach twists painfully, falling into a fitful sleep not long after.

What feels like mere minutes later, he’s awake again. Matt lay there in the dark, staring at his ceiling in a cold sweat and wondering what had woken him so abruptly. His stomach lurches. _Oh._

Matt scrambles out of his bed so fast he almost pukes right there, legs tangled in his sheets. By some miracle he manages to free himself and make it to the bathroom just in time to hunch over the toilet and empty the contents of his stomach rather violently. He's not quite sure how long he’s there, though it feels like forever.

“Shit,” someone says behind him, and he barely recognizes Tord’s accent over his heaving. He feels Tord move closer and crouch next to him, then begin to rub his back.

Just as Matt thinks things are over he feels bile rising in his throat and he’s puking again.

Tord’s still rubbing circles on his back, and Matt tries to focus on the feeling. “Just let it out, buddy, it’s alright,” Tord comforts. Matt lets out a garbled whimper in response, tears welling in his eyes. His throat is burning, and he feels absolutely _awful._

Finally, it seems he has nothing left in his stomach, and is left dry heaving for several minutes. When he stops, Matt collapses back into Tord, exhausted, desperately trying to get his breath back. Tord reaches forward to flush the toilet for him, and once he settles back again Matt twists so he’s practically in Tord’s lap, clutching at his shirt with shaky hands. It’s a little awkward, because Matt has a good few inches on Tord, but Tord doesn’t seem to mind. He combs a hand through Matt’s hair, holding him until he stops trembling and his eyes are drooping.

“Brush your teeth again and I’ll bring you back to bed,” Tord tells him, and Matt just nods against his chest. Tord helps him up; his legs feel like jelly and he almost crumples to the ground immediately, but Tord steadies him before he can. Matt braces himself against the sink and goes about washing his mouth out, and Tord leans against the doorway with a yawn, waiting patiently. He takes most of Matt’s weight when they finally leave the bathroom.

“Can I just go lay on the couch instead?” Matt asks weakly. His room seems so far away.

“Sure, buddy.” They reach the living room and Tord gently lowers Matt onto the couch. He quickly curls up into a ball, feeling hot but cold at the same time, and he hates it. He whines pitifully.

Tord disappears and Matt figures he’d returned to bed. After all, Tord had no reason to stay out here with him, even if Matt wishes he had.

It takes less than a minute for Matt to fall to the edge of sleep. Suddenly, he feels a blanket being tucked around him and he’s grateful, more so for the comfort it brings rather than the warmth. Someone -- Tord, his fuzzy mind supplies -- settles down on the couch with him, pulling his head into their lap. The TV turns on, so quiet it might as well be muted, and Matt falls asleep to Tord running a hand through his hair soothingly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edd is the ultimate Mom Friend™.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long to get out, hope you guys enjoy it!
> 
> Btw, I changed the rating because of some language in this chapter.

Matt comes to briefly when it’s just starting to get light out, still in Tord’s lap. The other man is snoring softly, head leaning back against the couch. He looks… peaceful. Matt doesn’t have time to dwell on it, because his own head it pounding. He’s asleep again within seconds.

Quiet murmurs and a hand brushing hair from his face stir him again some time later.

The conversation slowly makes its way into his muddled mind. “...sick. He threw up last night,” Tord says.

“Ew,” someone answers. _Tom?_

“Sh.” A cool hand is suddenly placed against his sweaty forehead and he subconsciously presses up into it, feeling entirely too hot. “He’s really warm.”

He hears Tom walk over and then the blanket is being pulled off of him. The hand moves from his forehead to pull through his hair gently.

Matt’s suddenly all too aware of the pain he’s in. His stomach is still doing flips and he feels incredibly nauseous, and he’s convinced his head is going to explode. He groans and buries his face into Tord’s stomach.

“Matt?” he hears. He makes some sort of noise in response, feeling too weak to use any actual words. “Matt, if you’re going to throw up...” He pulls away from Tord at this, squinting up at him and Tom.

“I don’t feel good,” Matt mumbles, miserable.

“You look like shit,” Tom states flatly. Matt doesn’t even have the energy to stress about it, and Tom and Tord share a look. “Just go back to sleep, then.”

Tord sits him up long enough to wiggle out from underneath him, then lays him back down. “Need anything?” he asks, stretching.

Matt mumbles something that vaguely sounds like, “No.” His eyes slip shut.

“Well, call us if you do,” Tom tells him. He and Tord head to the kitchen.

“Do you think we should we call Edd? See if there’s anything we can do to help him feel better?” Tord wonders as he goes about the room and collects things for breakfast.

“Wouldn't hurt, I guess,” Tom replies. He pulls his cell phone from the pocket of his hoodie and scrolls through his contacts until he finds Edd’s name. It takes a few rings for Edd to answer.

_“Tom, I literally just left yesterday. Please tell me the house is still in one piece.”_

Tom laughs. “Yeah, Edd, it’s fine. Um, it’s Matt, actually?”

_“Oh, is he feeling any better? He said his stomach was feeling weird yesterday.”_

“Yeah, about that… He’s feeling worse. A lot worse.” Tom rubs the back of his neck.

_“Oh boy. What’s wrong with him?”_

“He has a fever and Tord says he puked last night,” Tom explains, leaning against the counter, “and I think he’s still feeling nauseous.”

Edd sighs through the phone. _“Just keep him hydrated, that’s probably the most important thing. Try to bring his fever down, too. If he’s throwing up, soup and crackers are going to be the only things he’ll be able to keep down. Give him just the broth for now, though. One his stomach is stronger he’ll want chicken noodle.”_

“Okay,” Tom says, “that doesn’t sound too hard.”

_“Yeah, if you do all that he’ll be fine in a few days. Some tea might be good for him, too, if he’s feeling up to it,”_ Edd tells him.

“Alright. Thanks, Edd.”

_“Sure! Tell Matt I said to feel better, yeah? Call if you need anything else.”_

“I’ll tell him. Thanks again.” He hangs up.

“What’d he say?” Tord asks around a mouthful of cereal.

Tom makes a face of disgust, pushing himself from the counter. “Ugh, don’t talk with your mouth full, that’s gross.” Tord swallows and sticks his tongue out, and Tom would roll his eyes if he had any. “He was just saying to like keep him hydrated and bring his fever down and stuff,” he says, grabbing a bowl from the cabinet and pouring some cereal. He pads over to the fridge for the milk. “Oh, he also said we should- _Tord!”_

Tord’s head whips around to face Tom. “What?” he asks innocently, but Tom can see the way he’s trying to hide a smug grin.

Tom holds up an empty milk carton. “Why would you put this back in the fridge if it’s empty? And thanks for saving me some, you asshole.”

Tord smiles. “Of course. What are friends for, right?”

Tom glares, then promptly walks over and shoves Tord out of his seat. “Go buy soup for Matt,” he demands.

Tord squints angrily at him from the kitchen floor. “I was eating.”

“Well, you’re not anymore, so bye,” Tom says matter-of-factly, removing Tord’s spoon from the bowl, reaching across the table for his own discarded one and taking a spoonful of Tord’s cereal.

Tord looks as though he’s going to start a fight, but to Tom’s surprise, only says, “Fine,” and pushes himself off the floor.

“And get more milk!” Tom chucks the empty carton at the back of Tord’s head as he exits the kitchen. Tord flips him off and leaves. Tom eats his cereal triumphantly.

Tom’s just finishing when he hears Matt stumble to the bathroom. Frowning, he follows the sound of retching, finding Matt with his head in the toilet, stomach trying to get rid of something that isn't there. Tom sits on the edge of the bathtub, leaning forward to rub Matt’s back and whisper comforts as Tord had done the night before.

Tom guides Matt back to the couch, dropping him there and disappearing for a moment. He returns with a glass of water, pressing it into Matt’s shaking hands. “Thanks,” Matt says hoarsely, raising the glass to his lips and taking a small sip. The cool liquid feels good on his sore throat.

“I’ll grab you a bucket or something so you don't have to keep getting up, hang on.” Matt drinks some more water while he waits, and soon enough Tom’s placing a small wastebasket on the floor next to Matt, easily within his reach. He also hands Matt a damp rag. “Put that on your forehead when you lay down, it should help with your fever.”

“Thanks,” Matt says. Tom nods and takes a seat. “Did Tord go out? I thought I heard him leave.”

“Yeah, he went to get you some soup and stuff,” Tom explains. Matt makes a face. “Do you think you can keep it down?”

“I dunno,” Matt answers. The thought of food makes him feel sick, but he hopes it won't be an issue if he only has the broth.

“Well, it’ll be there, if you’re up to it. You should probably get something in you at some point. Also, you need to drink more water.” Tom pushes the cup back up towards Matt’s mouth. Matt sips some more until Tom looks satisfied. The half empty glass is placed on the coffee table.

Tom’s phone buzzes as he reclines back onto the couch, Matt settling down beside him after placing the rag on his forehead. He ignores it for a moment in favor of turning the TV on and handing the remote to Matt, who props his feet in Tom’s lap and flips through channels. Tom pulls out his phone, finding one unread message from Tord.

_You didn't tell me what kind of soup, moron._

_Get just broth and chicken noodle. Edd said to get crackers too. Also get more of Matt’s favorite tea,_ he replies.

Seconds later, he sends, _AND DON'T FORGET MILK._

Tord’s reply is instantaneous: _Fuck off._

Tom snickers and slides his phone back into his pocket, turning his attention to the Doctor Why rerun Matt had turned on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there's probably going to be only one or two more chapters, I think. I'll try to get the next one up sooner! Thanks to everyone for all the lovely comments!

**Author's Note:**

> Wow that sucked, sorry.


End file.
